Five year-old Ino bounded out of bed with a feeling that nothing could ruin her day no matter what because it was pancakes for breakfast and pancakes always meant something special like birthdays or New Year's. Pancakes always meant that there were presents, and where there were presents there were brand new toys. But when she reached the kitchen, there were no gift-wrapped packages to be seen. Instead, there was a scrawny little boy sitting at the table eating her pancakes with her strawberries and whipped cream and drinking chocolate milk from her favorite cup. She wanted to pummel the little thief within an inch of his life (she was absolutely sure she could have done it. He was been tiny, even for a five year-old, and he didn't have a trace of leftover baby fat to give him any substance) but her father intervened in the nick of time.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he said, apparently missing the gleam of furious killer intent in his sweetheart daughter's eyes. "Do you remember Shikaku and Yoshino? They gave you that nice pony puzzle for your birthday."
Ino shuffled her feet and grumbled that yes, she remembered them and that was when her father dropped the bomb: "This is their son, Shikamaru. He's going to be staying with us for a few days while his parents are on a mission in Mist country. Now I want you to remember that he's our guest, so you know what that means." Boy did she ever. It meant sharing mommy and daddy, sharing her toys, and sharing her pancakes.
But even though she had to share her parents and her toys and her pancakes, she didn't have to like him if she didn't want to. Which she didn't. She very quickly discovered that he was a quiet and lazy person. He didn't want to play tag, he didn't want to play with any of her toys, he didn't even want to look at picture books. He didn't want to do anything except take naps or stare out the window, which was just weird. Worst of all, he was a boy, and everybody knew that boys were icky except for daddy who didn't count.
Several hours after that fateful breakfast, Shikamaru was looking out the window with his eyes glazed and Ino was at a complete loss over what to do with him. She wanted to just leave the strange boy there and play with her toys by herself, but she knew that daddy expected her to be nice to him. So she cleared her throat and said, "Do you wanna play tic-tac-toe?"
Shikamaru looked away from the window with a dreamy expression on his face. "Huh?"
Ino sighed. He wasn't just a weird, icky boy who stole her pancakes—he was a stupid, weird, icky boy who stole her pancakes. She was very careful to speak slowly and clearly as she repeated, "Do. You. Want. To. Play. Tic. Tac. Toe."
"No."
"Do you—" Ino trailed off when she noticed that Shikamaru was already looking back out the window. He didn't seem to have any idea that she was still standing there. "Hey! Listen to me!"
He turned back to her with a small frown on his face. Ino thought he was going to yell at her, but he just yawned and said, "What do you want?"
She wanted him to yell and shout and scream. That was the stupidest, most annoying thing about him. He never got excited about anything. With an incredible effort which was especially impressive for a five year-old child, Ino held back the urge to lose her temper and said, "Do you want to color in my new coloring book?"
"No."
Ino wormed her way in front of the window before he could turn around and ignore her again. "Do you want to play dress up?"
"That's a girl's game," he sighed as though she had dealt him the granddaddy of all insults. "I'm a boy."
"Oh. Do you want to play ninja then?" She grinned. She was sure that he was stuck now. All boys liked to play ninja, and daddy had just bought her a brand new set of foam kunai. It was an offer he couldn't possibly refuse.
And yet—"No."
"Well what do you wanna play then?"
His eyes took on a far-away look and he was quiet for so long that Ino thought he was ignoring her again before he said, "How about hide and seek?"
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"OK. But you seek first because it was your idea to play."
Shikamaru shrugged. "OK."
"Cover your eyes and count to…um…a thousand. And no peeking!"
She was delighted when he turned to face the window with his hands over his eyes and began to count, "One…two…three…."
Wasting no time, she raced out of the room and downstairs to the flower shop. Even though Ino knew that playing in the flower shop was against The Rules, she barely thought twice. The lights are all out which means we're closed. Besides, he'll never think to look for me down here, she thought with a giggle. And even if he does, I know just the place to hide.
She ducked into a small corridor behind the cashier's desk and ran all the way to the gray door at the end. Behind that door was the walk-in refrigerator that her father had converted into a storage room for backordered flowers. No way he'll ever find me in the cold room….
"Eighteen…nineteen…twenty…." Shikamaru held his breath and listened for any sign of the loud blonde girl. Everything was silent. Good, he thought. Now I can have a little peace and quiet. Maybe I'll even have time to take a nap. He glanced around the room and his eyes came to rest on a comfortable-looking sofa. Perfect.
Ino felt as though she had been sitting inside the flower refrigerator for a long time and the novelty of the perfect hiding place was beginning to wear off. Instead of congratulating herself for her own genius, all she could think of was how boring it was to sit there all alone in the cold and in the dark. There were no toys. She didn't dare touch any of the flowers because if she did daddy would know that she'd been in the shop and then she'd be in real trouble.
She strained her ears for any sign of the weird, scrawny boy. Besides the low whirring of the cooling unit, everything was completely silent. "Th-that d-d-dummy," she shivered. This stinks! It's really cold in here; how long is he going to take to find me? she wondered. Maybe I'm a little too good at hiding. Guess I should move somewhere easier.
She felt her way through the dark to the door, fumbled for the handle…and found nothing. Well that's funny, she thought with a small frown. She ran her hand up and down the place where the handle should have been, looking for some sort of latch or knob. All she felt was smooth wall. In a last-ditch effort, she tried pushing against the door as hard as she could. The door remained firmly closed.
"Oh n-no," she whispered. I'm stuck!
Shikamaru yawned, stretched like a cat and opened his eyes. That was a nice nap, he thought. Mom wasn't here to yell at me and make me go play outside. I bet I slept a whole hour!
"I wonder if that girl's still—" he trailed off as a strange noise came to his ears. What was that? He furrowed his brow, cocked his head to one side and listened. There were a few seconds of silence, and then there was a distant but shrill squealing sound.
Now, even though Shikamaru was a very, very smart five year-old, the fact remains that he was still only five years old. When he heard that horrible shrieking sound, the first thing that he thought of was a big, black book that his mother had put way up on top of the biggest book shelf in their house. One day when he was all alone, he climbed all the way to the top of the bookshelf just so he could see what was in that book. The page he opened to showed a black-and-white inked drawing of an old hag in a moth-eaten, hooded cloak hovering over a man. The hag's toothless mouth was stretched wide in a scream and her skeletal fingers were grazing against the man's shoulder.
He hadn't wanted to read what it said about the man and the woman—it looked much too silly (scary) for his tastes—but his eyes were drawn in by that the vivid picture and somehow, he couldn't stop himself from plowing ahead with his newly-acquired reading skills:
The wail of the Banshee is a warning of death for those unlucky enough to hear it.
At the time, he'd thought it was ridiculous (absolutely terrifying). But now here he was, hearing these horrible, wailing shrieks that sounded exactly like a Banshee would sound…if they were real, of course. Which as of the end of his nice, relaxing nap, they apparently were.
"Well. I guess I'm going to die then," he sighed with all the gravity that a five year-old can inject into their voice. "And that means I need a will." He was quite calm as he began to look for a piece of paper and a crayon; calm enough to run through his will in his head as he searched. For dad…he can have my travel shougi board. That way he won't get bored on long missions because he can play it with his friends. For mom…she can have all of my ninja stuff. It might be useful someday, even if it's just a bunch of toys made of foam. And for Chouji…he can have all of my candy. And a bag of potato chips, too.
He picked up a stubby, pink crayon, and wondered if he could find any other color because pink seemed like a very silly color to write his own will with. Besides that, pink was a girly color, and as he had clearly told Ino earlier, he was a boy. Ino, he thought. I should leave something for her and her parents, too, since they took care of me and gave me pancakes. He frowned. What if they hear the Banshee, too? It's living in their house….
Now, Shikamaru may have come to terms with the fact that he was going to die, but he didn't know how he felt about all three of the Yamanaka's dying with him. Maybe if I kill it before any of them hear it screaming, they'll be OK, he thought. How do you kill a Banshee? I have no idea. He shrugged. Guess it doesn't really matter whether I die trying to kill the Banshee or whether I die on my own. Either way, I'm a goner. And so, even though Shikamaru was scrawny, lazy, and about to die, he set off to find and kill the Banshee using whatever means possible.
Having abandoned any pretense of playing hide-and-go-seek, Ino was pounding on the door and screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping that somebody (preferably not daddy, because he would get mad at her for playing in the flower shop) would find her. She had been yelling for so long her voice was becoming hoarse and she thought that her hands might hurt if they weren't so numb.
I'm going to freeze in here, she thought, putting up another round of hysterical wailing at the thought. Daddy'll open up the door tomorrow morning and I'll be all blue and frozen and DEAD!
"Someb-b-body p-please help!" she screamed. And to her surprise, the door flew open and a small and scrawny body barreled into her, sending them both sprawling on the ground. While she was still getting her bearings, the person who had knocked her over sprang to his feet, darting his head this way and that as though he was expecting someone to leap out of the shadows and attack him. "Shikamaru? What're you doing?" Ino queried once she realized who it was.
"Where is she? Did you hear her, too?"
"Huh? Who?"
"The Banshee," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Ban..shee? What's a Banshee?"
"It's…never mind," he mumbled. It was hard to see in the dark of the refrigerator, but Ino thought she saw his cheeks turning pink.
"Shikamaru, you're silly," she giggled. Then she gasped and pointed at the open door. "And you saved my life! Look!"
He looked at it as though he'd never seen a door in his life. Ino laughed at the expression on his face and said, "Come on; let's get out of here before we both get stuck in here." As the two of them walked through the dark flower shop and up the stairs, Ino decided that Shikamaru could have all the strawberry and cream pancakes he wanted. It's the least I can do, she thought. He did save my life.
Author's Notes: I really didn't mean to write this story. I was in the middle of writing something completely different and the next thing I knew I had this instead. I blame the irresistible cuteness of chibi Shikamaru and chibi Ino. And I have absolutely no idea where the Banshee idea came from. Reviews are much appreciated!